


Hogwarts Mystery: Year 1

by LindsaysBlue



Series: Moira Fickle and The Cursed Vaults [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: 1984, Angst, Character Development, Family, Fantasy, First of many, Friendship/Love, God it's been forever since I was 11, I do take some of the original lines from the game, I really like writing dialogue, I think I'm gonna do every year of the game, I think this is the one where I just felt like there was a really, I'm gonna make sure that Merula bitch gets some, Magic, Mentions of the First Wizard War later, Muah, We're 11 in this, a lot of the iconic stuff, alright maybe some hints at it, but nothing official, first year, it's been nine years, like what do they even do?, not like anyone but our muggleborns are gonna make references though, plain plot, since they're just 11 there's no romance in this story, so I'll make it spicier for y'all, that's the year this takes place in, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindsaysBlue/pseuds/LindsaysBlue
Summary: Moira Fickle, an 11-year old student in her first year at Hogwarts, begins investigating the mysterious Cursed Vaults in an effort to find her missing brother, Jacob. She is accompanied by her new friends Rowan, Ben and Penny who are happy to help her no matter what. Good thing too because she'll need them in the years to come.
Relationships: Ben Copper/Jacob's Sibling, Merula Snyde/ Jacob's Sibling, Penny Haywood/Jacob's Sibling, Rowan Khanna/Jacob's Sibling
Series: Moira Fickle and The Cursed Vaults [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801624
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Diagon Alley or Weird Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great."
> 
> \- Mr. Ollivander, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling

Diagon Alley. It was busier than ever with families bustling about for back to school shopping. The majority of the students scuffling behind their families were going to Hogwarts. The school of witchcraft and wizardry, of course.

Young Moira Fickle is one of these students, preparing for the first year of her magical education. She stood clutching her list near her turning stomach as her light eyes wandered up and down the stone-bricked streets of the very place she used to visit every year with her family. Her whole family.

While many 11-year-olds would normally be excited to attend an academy that taught some of the greatest minds in the history of magic, this particular 11-year-old only grew more nervous as the first day of school crept closer. Not a nice kind of nervous, more of a this-school-will-tear-me-apart kind of nervous because even though the world of magic seemed mystical and appealing, it was still often at times socially unkind to people who had been dealt cards that were... less than ideal.

They were weirdly medieval for the 20th century.

Well, when you have to keep hidden from the rather dominating and intuitive muggle world it's bound to be like that. Moira only knew how great the divide was because of magazines and the occasional walk through London. This meant that perhaps she didn't know enough to make a statement on muggles and their societal values. After all, wizards and witches are still hiding from them after years of being hunted and burned for their way of life. So it's hard to believe they've actually gotten far enough.

A tall slender man with an atrociously overgrown mustache and slanted eyes just like Moira's watched her round face for any twitch of a smile or excitement. Nothing. "You know," he sighed, adjusting the periwinkle baseball cap. "Your brother was much more hopeful going into his first year."

It was true. Jacob's eyes lit up when he got his letter. If he were still around, they'd be attending school together. "Well, he messed that up, didn't he?" She muttered bitterly. Her eyes twitched with regret when the silence followed. The dark, solemn expression on her father's face made a guilty swell in her heart. Her small hand lifted slowly to pinch at the corner of his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Dad. It's just-"

"Don't worry, Mo," he reassured his youngest child. Large, warm hands engulfed hers and she felt something cold drop into her palm. He gave her a gentle, forgiving smile. Sometimes it felt like he was being careful with her. Micah and Jinora Fickle had already lost one child so maybe they were afraid she'd disappear too. His top hand lifted from hers to reveal several galleons and sickles.

"What are you doing?" Moira inquired and gave Father Fickle a confused smile.

The creases in the corner of the man's eyes deepened. Micah's mustache twitched as he let the hand that was still holding hers seconds ago fall to his side. "I have to run to go pick something up, then I'll meet up with you in front of Gringott's."

"High noon?"

"No, I'd say more midday-ish," the wizard held up three fingers and was very happy to see Moira nod in confirmation. "Go ahead and get some of the items on your list. Try to have some left so we can visit the sweets shop when we're done."

"Erm, alright," she mumbled and closed her hands around the coins. Micah's mustache scratched at her forehead. It hurt and tickled, but the kiss on her forehead was always a quick and sweet transaction between these two.

Micah left his daughter in the trusted hands of Diagon Alley. Moira wasn't afraid to shop by herself, everyone knew the alley was safe, but as she passed a few storefronts she became more overwhelmed at the idea of going into all these shops by herself. Normally, she'd be holding her mother's hand walking into Flourish & Blotts, usually, they'd be searching for the newest edition of a cooking spells book. Now she was alone.

Her fingers twiddled with the corner of the parchment as she looked through the store windows. Stacks of books seemed to peer right back at her as she tried to gain the confidence to go in on her own. Moira hardly heard the tentative steps right by her.

"Are you... okay?"

Caught off-guard, Moira sidestepped away from the voice. The young witch who had asked the question seemed just as taken aback as Moira. "Oh," she exclaimed. Her dark eyebrows curled upwards behind her horned glasses. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm not very good at... talking to people?"

Moira quickly composed herself and turned to the other kid. The girl looked to be about the same age as her. "No, it's... it's fine," she attempted to soothe the apologizing witch before her. The witch was probably doing school shopping just like her too. Her clothes were gray and pale blue. The cold colors contrasted her warm skin tone, and honestly, really suited her. "I shouldn't have reacted like that I was just-" She didn't want to admit that she was nervous about going into the book store. "- trying to figure out where to start."

"Well," the young witch considered the options momentarily and pointed at the shop right in front of her. "In my, personal, expertise in list organization and my general carrying of things, you probably shouldn't start at the bookstore."

"Why?"

"Books are sometimes heavy."

"Oh." Now that it was pointed out to her, it seemed pretty apparent. How humbling. "Haha, yeah... You're right."

"As much as it would pain me to go to another store. We should start with something light," she stated with a hand up to her chin. Did she say "we"? Was this witch planning on shopping with Moira? "Oh, I know! Have you got your wand yet?"

"Er, no. I just got here."

"If you walk two shops down, you'll be right next to Olivander's." The black-haired witch pointed behind Moira. She turned to look. It was true it wasn't far. This girl was really helpful.

"Oh, I see. Thanks?"

"No problem! I'm Rowan Khanna by the way." A thin, dark hand held out, anticipating a handshake to be exchanged.

"Moira-" A beat of silence punctuated her first name as she questioned whether or not she should give her last name, afraid Rowan would recognize her family name and immediately judge her or write her off as being crazy. It was unfair for people to think that of her, of course. It was also unfair for Moira to write her off as someone who'd judge her. "- Fickle."

Moira tried her best to keep her composure as she watched Rowan's eyes for any sign of recognition as she grasped the outstretched hand. There wasn't anything Moira could gleam from Rowan's welcoming expression. Maybe she was a muggle-born and she didn't know anything about the Fickle name?

"I'll go ahead and walk you down to Ollivander's. He's a friend of my family. We supply wood for wands and brooms. For generations, actually."

Guess not. Now there was no explanation for Rowan not knowing who she was. Every witch and wizard read the Daily Prophet and so every witch and wizard knew about what happened to the Fickle family last year. Then their children would find out, and... Well, let's just say Moira didn't have many friends anymore.

"Why don't you come with me, Rowan?"

"R-really?" Why was she so stunned? Moira raised an eyebrow, but the corners of her mouth curled upward on their own.

"Uh, yeah?" Moira thought the witch was gonna shop with her anyways. She needed to stop assuming things. "I mean, shopping is more fun with a friend, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is."

❈ ❈ ❈

The warm lighting inside the store didn't help the store look clean, but it sure did make a customer feel more at home. The front desk was perhaps the cleanest part of the store despite the many empty boxes, and wrapped packages pushed against the walls. The various stacks of loose parchment perilously teetered at the edge of the desk.

A bell rang to tell the old wandmaker to come to the front of his shop, however, when the two young witches arrived they weren't greeted by anyone at all. They looked around the floor as they shuffled in. Books were pushed up against the walls and stacked on various chairs. Dust tickled Moira's nose as she breathed in. A threatening sneeze welled up inside her and exploded from her mouth from behind her elbow. The force was so great she had jumped an inch back. She barely noticed Rowan gasp as an eccentric looking man came from the back room carrying a stack of wand boxes taller than himself.

"Oh, sir! Let me help," Rowan offered.

"No need! No need!" The tottering tower nearly took a tumble, but that Garrick Ollivander skillfully put a stop to it, for he had a free hand carrying his wand and with a swish and flick every box gracefully went into its appropriate shelf. Moira wondered if this man had any grandchildren and if he gave them heart attacks like this. Maybe not though. He seemed like he lived for just wands. "See there, Ms. Khanna! Taken care of!"

"Ah, incredible, Mr. Ollivander!" Rowan laughed her panic away and gave a little celebratory clap. The old timer's eyes moved to Moira, who was clapping alongside Rowan unknowingly. As soon as Moira noticed his eyes on her she quickly dropped her hands to her side and nodded. "This is-!"

"Moira Fickle!"

Another nod from Moira. "Y-yes, sir." Merlin's beard, she must look so silly right now. Her owl-eyed expression studied the man just as he studied her. He wore velvet. Which only seemed to collect dust from the store. His gray hair was thinning, but big. Like every adult to an 11-year-old, he was tall. Like cracks in wood, the wrinkles in his face had deepened in the six years that had passed since she had last stood in the wand shop.

Rowan looked back and forth between the two with a smile. "I take it you've met her then?"

"Yes! Six years ago when her brother came to get his wand," Ollivander informed.

"Yes, I can hardly believe you remember that."

"Indeed, I do! I remember every wand I've ever sold. His was maple wood, dragon heartstring core, ten inches. A fine wand. Shame they snapped it in half when he was expelled." His smile faded with hers as he looked down at her, hands folded together in front of him. "I understand that he has been missing since. That must have a profound effect on you."

"Yes, well," Moira mumbled before she could find her voice. At this point, it was hard to avoid this subject in front of Rowan. "Many things were felt. I think at first-- I was angry at him for being so stupid and for ruining our family name. For not coming home, but I think I should be more concerned with restoring the Fickle family. I'll become strong so they can be respected."

"I see that you've grown to be quite determined and I can tell you have a lot of fight in you." Ollivander gave a curt nod and walked in between the tall shelves behind the counter. "I believe I have something for you to try, my dear." He returned with two thin, red boxes. Both boxes were opened and glanced over before two wands were placed on the wooden counter in front of the young witches. Moira hovered between the two before she reached for the first one to be set down. It felt promising in her hands, the handle fit perfectly into the curve of her hand.

"Aha!" Rowan gasped. "Hornbeam!"

"Correct, Ms. Khanna! Hornbeam wood, unicorn hair core, eleven and a quarter inches. Inflexible." Ollivander smiled at Rowan before he turned his attention to Moira. She had taken a few steps back from the desk to ready herself. She widened her stance and held the wand out in front of her. Straight faced, she drew a sideways S-shape in the air between her and the wall of books and boxes. Then she flicked the glowing tip away from her face and in a spectacular gush of wind the stack of loose parchment toppled off the edge of the counter. The paper swirled around her in a grand hurricane.

"I believe that's the one," Ollivander spoke with a proud twinkle in his eye. There was a smile splayed on his old, cracked face that was familiar to the young witch. Years ago he gave the same smile to her older brother. She couldn't fight the growing grin on her round face as she twirled against the whirlwind.

The short brown hair on Moira's head was tousled and harsh looking after the paper brushing it. "It feels like the one," She responded, seemingly blown away by her wand work. Well, she couldn't call it that just yet, but her confidence at this very moment? Said differently. The papers fell in an almost perfect circle around the witch. Perhaps she was actually excited about learning magic now- she cleared her throat with a cough and flattened her hair with her wand hand. No way.

Rowan gave her a round of applause. "No spells, and yet it was a spectacular display, Moira!" She chuckled.

"Thanks." The praise was appreciated, however, the mess around her caused the heat rise from her belly to her face. She rushed out an apology as the river of yellow parchment flew through the again and filed into a pillar once again.

"It's quite alright, Ms. Fickle."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."

"I expect to see great things from you in the years to come."

Great could mean many, many things. After all, You-Know-Who did many terrible things and yet many of those things could be considered great. The founders of Hogwarts could also be considered to be great, but their moral alignment varied way more compared to the Death Eaters. Moira hoped, not-so-deep down in her heart, that she would be a good kind of great. She prayed that many generations after her would try to be a good kind of great too, the years ahead of Moira had much in store, however.

"I won't disappoint, sir."

❈ ❈ ❈

Their arms felt lighter as soon as they had the chance to sit down on those white steps up to Gringotts. Rowan was very correct about the books being incredibly cumbersome. Moira found the other witch to be correct most of the time, it seemed. She seemed to know an extraordinary amount about... well everything. Especially Hogwarts. Her eyes smiled for everyone and despite what Rowan had told Moira- the one time throughout their time together that the young witch was wrong- she was an excellent conversationalist.

Once Rowan Khanna started talking, it was hard to get her to stop. Listening to her, however, wasn't as unpleasant as one may think. Her excitement was infectious and if you needed a question answered she always elaborated with a big grin. You couldn't help but feel as happy about trees as she did. "Hey, Moira?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you as excited about attending Hogwarts as I am?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. She only decided to continue with that when she saw how confused her new friend was at her response. "I mean, I wasn't excited. Not until I met you at least."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I suppose having a friend going into that place makes it a little better," she hummed. She found herself, once again, unable to hold back a grin at the sight of Rowan's pleasantly surprised face. "But no. I really don't think anyone could be as excited about school or studying as you."

"Yeah," Rowan let out an airy chuckle, she pushed her glasses up from the sides, nudging them up onto the bridge of her arched nose. It was nice having someone to talk to, someone her age that didn't seem to be judging her for her brother's actions. Although, Rowan didn't know the full truth. "Are you sure you want to be my friend, Moira?"

"What?" The question caught Moira off-guard. Why was she asking this? "Where did that come from?"

"Well, I know that sometimes I can be a lot-"

"Not to me."

"- And sometimes, I can be a bit weird."

"Well, that's alright. I can be weird too." Moira looked away from Rowan and fell back on the step behind her. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Honestly? I should be asking you that."

"Why? Because you're Jacob Fickle's younger sister?"

"Ah, you know," Moira sighed. It was to be expected. Rowan wasn't daft and she was bound to find out when they got to school, but it felt a little bit like a betrayal that Rowan had figured it out and hadn't said anything.

"I knew as soon as you told me your name," Rowan said calmly. "Your brother's the very same Jacob Fickle that went missing after breaking several school rules and getting himself expelled."

"Yeah."

"The Prophet said he went mad looking for the Cursed Vaults."

"Yeah," Moira breathed out. Her leg was bouncing nervously. "Why didn't you say anything about it?"

"Well, I didn't care- I mean, you're not your brother." Rowan didn't know it, but those words were blessed to Moira's ears. Another kid knew about her brother and didn't think she was crazy too. Someone didn't shun her or pity her. Moira smiled at Rowan who simply smiled back. "We can be weird together."

There was a comfortable stroke of silence as both the girls looked away from each other and towards the length of Diagon Alley. When you were done with all that chaos below the bank, people watching seemed like the perfect pastime. "It won't be easy- Being my friend I mean. The other students might not be as understanding as you and will, surely, waste no time to pick on me."

"I got it. What do you want me to do in those situations?"

"I dunno. Follow my lead, I suppose."

"Understood. I'll use my extensive vocabulary to verbally pummel anyone who attempts to besmirch your reputation."

Moira laughed, "Alright!"

It seemed like the year at Hogwarts was starting to get better before it had even begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ends the first chapter of my version of Hogwarts Mystery: Year 1. I hope that you enjoyed and are prepared for the next chapter where Moira and Rowan get sorted into their house and meet knew friends. Hurray!
> 
> Love,
> 
> Lindsay


	2. Sorted Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There's nothing hidden in your head  
> The Sorting Hat can't see,  
> So try me on and I will tell you  
> Where you ought to be."
> 
> \-- The Sorting Hat, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by Hatsune Miku

"Promise to write every week?" 

"Of course, Mum," two red-headed boys monotonously responded as she straightened their clothes for the fifth time since they had stood there. 

"We promise," the shorter of the two uniformed boys said in an almost laugh as he went to kiss his mother on the cheek. "For the fifth time." 

"Ooh, you!" The mother patted his freckled face before pulling them both in for what could only be the third hug. "Alright, don't get into too much trouble. I don't want to get an owl telling me you set the Gryffindor common room on fire while pretending you're a dragon, Charlie." 

"Mum, I've outgrown that." 

"Have you? That was last week." 

"Shut it, Bill." 

" _No_ fighting," their mother shook her head and ushered them closer to the train. 

"Tell that to the rest of 'em," the one called Charlie laughed as he stepped on. "Bill and I aren't the ones you've gotta worry about." 

"Probably," chuckled Bill, pointing at a few of the younger children that were with them, the set of twins with them had their hands behind their backs in faux innocence. Their mother only playfully scowled and told him to hurry up and get onto the Hogwarts Express. Moira watched the family continue to talk through the open windows of the train and wondered if that Bill fellow was a good older brother. 

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was full of many families saying goodbye until winter break. It was a storm of feelings for a lot of parents who were seeing their children off. Especially since Hogwarts has had a few deaths in its history. Why was Moira going again? 

She supposed great danger came with great power if you didn't practice great responsibility. Of course, she was a Fickle so Merlin only knew what sort of rubbish she'd get wrapped up in. "Mo, they'll notice you staring, dear." 

That's right, her eyes were still watching that herd of redheads. How embarrassing. Her wide eyes broke eye contact with the freckled one because one of them did notice her staring. 

Mother Fickle held her daughter's hand and let out an airy laugh, "A bit early for you to be making googly eyes at anyone, y' know?" 

"But I wasn't!" 

"I know-- I was only teasing." Jenora Fickle's delicate yet calloused hand let go of her daughter's to push a strand of dark brown hair off of Moira's brow. "I'm a little sad having to let you go alone like this, but I will say that you look _so_ cute in your uniform." 

"Thanks, Mum." Moira beamed, she took note of the way her mom's freckled nose seemed to wrinkle as she displayed a fond smile, allowing the gap in her teeth to be seen. Moira wanted to remember everything about her mother before she got on that train and left for months. Her thick and wavy red-brown hair was down for the first time in a while. Well, it had been a long time since Moira had gotten the chance to see her mom's wavy, long hair in any other style other than a braid. Jenora eyes were nothing like her daughter's, however, they were a pale and striking green. Even though her face was bare and her eyes were puffy from weeks of not getting proper rest, she seemed more beautiful now that Moira knew she wouldn't see her mom's face every morning. "I'll write to you every week."

"You had better. And make sure you make good friends," she giggled, wrapping Moira in a tight hug. Moira's ear was held against her chest. Her mother's heartbeat seemed quicker than normal, but she didn't spare a thought on it as she was pulled away. "If we don't hear from you..."

"I know."

Her mother sighed and gave Moira a once over, straightening any folds in those Hogwarts robes. Pearly tears pooled on her lower lashes and her nose wrinkled as she blinked in an attempt to make them disappear. "Erm, it's time for you to get on the train." 

Moira was nearly silent except for the second, yet very quiet murmur, "I know."

The young witch got onto Hogwarts Express with an ache in her heart. Quick to put her luggage away, she pushed her head out the window just in time to notice her mother wiping her flushed cheeks with her sleeves as Moira got farther away. Moira didn't want to blink because she knew that she wouldn't see her mother when she opened her eyes, however, the growing wind stung her eyes and she had no choice. Then just like that, her mother wasn't in her line of sight and she had to pull her head back into the train. 

She fell back onto the green seat behind her with a loud and bellowing sigh. Kings Cross was now getting smaller too. How would her parents feel with just each other? Well, she wasn't that worried. She was lucky enough to have parents that still loved each other. Although, they had been rivals during their years at Hogwarts. 

It was a really cute story, how they got together. You see, Mother Fickle was a Slytherin, and Father Fickle was a--!

The sliding door to Moira's compartment was thrown open with a slam, snapping Moira out of her thoughts. "MOIRA!" 

"Oh, Rowan!" She hadn't thought to look for her friend because she was stuck in her feelings. "Sorry, I didn't come to look for you." 

"Oh, I was just excited to see you, but apology accepted," Rowan replied gleefully as she allowed herself into the compartment, closing the door after she had brought her carryon into the little room. "I had a chance to meet a couple of other students while I was looking for you so I'm not upset at all, but I did have something to show you." 

"Oh, what is it?" Moira sat up straighter to get a better look at the now unzipped bag on Rowan's lap. The spectacled witch pulled a folded article of clothing out of her bag and let it fall open with an excited grin. "Oh, the scarf!"

"I went back for it," Rowan reported proudly as she swung the multi-colored scarf around her neck, lifting her chin to narrowly avoid getting whipped in the face. "I got something else too."

"Are you gonna show me that too?" 

"Hm, no," Rowan said simply as she reached into her bag for a black box and held it out to Moira. "I'm gonna give it to you instead." 

"You got me something?" 

"It's a thank you for helping me pick out the scarf."

"Oh, I can't accept this, Rowan." 

"Then take it as a token of our friendship instead." 

Moira nodded and took the black box from her friend with a smile. "Thank you." 

"You don't even know what it is yet. Open it!" Rowan seemed to bounce a little in her seat at the box cracked open to reveal two black hair clips. They were rectangular and thin. "What do you think?" 

"I love them." Moira beamed at Rowan who adjusted her glasses and let out a breath that she must have been holding since the gift left her hands. 

"I noticed you have a strand of hair that's longer than the rest. I figured, so you don't have to worry about it while studying, a hair clip would be perfect," Rowan spoke and wrung her hands in front of her. Moira took one of the clips out of the cardboard bed and positioned the strand of hair that was threatening to fall over her brow over to the side of her head. The clip held it in place just right. "We can even change the color later after we get sorted." 

"Oh, that'd be brilliant!" 

"What house do you think you'll be in? Same as your parents?" Rowan asked.

"I don't r'lly know. My parents were in totally different houses so I don't know where I'll end up. Jacob didn't end up in either of Slytherin or Gryffindor so I don't think it's that relevant for me. He was a Hufflepuff." 

"Oh, I see. I think I'll be in Ravenclaw." 

"For sure," Moira agreed with a laugh. No one was as hungry for learning as Rowan Khanna. "It'd be nice if we ended up in the same house."

"Yeah," Rowan packed the scarf away into the bag and leaned back into the seat. They both looked out the window at the rolling fields of grass and continued to imagine what their life at Hogwarts will be like. 

"Hey, Rowan?" 

"Are you as nervous as I am?" 

"I read Hogwarts, A History so many times, Moira, that I don't think there's anything I could be nervous about." 

"Not even the other students?" 

"Well, now that you mention it-- I guess that seems a bit frightening, yeah." Rowan's lips pulled into a tight, thin line as she considered the social possibilities with the other wizards and witches. 

Tap! Tap!

The witches were interrupted by a witch with short, gray curls for hair and a sweet smile that was a tad unsettling if you didn't know she sold sweets. "Sweets from the trolley, dears?" She asked in a sweet old lady voice. 

"Er--yes, miss," Moira quickly fumbled for a little bag of sickles her father gave to her before she had left the home that morning. "Four chocolate frogs, two pumpkin pasties, four licorice wands, and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, please!" 

Moira gave the Trolley Witch the sickles needed to continue the transaction so she could get her items. "Wow, Moira," Rowan awed. "You have an appetite for sweets." 

Mostly when she was nervous would she eat this much all by herself. She gave a shy smile and offered Rowan a pumpkin pastie, "I got some for you too." 

"Thanks," Rowan grabbed it in both hands and carefully brought it to her mouth for a bite as did Moira. It was sweet and well, pumpkiny. "More about the students, instead of looking at it like these students will immediately be mean, why not look at everyone as a bunch of opportunities to make friends." 

"I suppose," Moira conceded. She must not have looked too convinced because Rowan grabbed Moira's hand and gave her a look. A look that told Moira not to worry because she had already made a friend. She could almost clearly hear it too. It made the young witch sink back into her seat. "You're right."

"I always try to be." 

❈ ❈ ❈

"Andre Egwu!" 

Moira wasn't sure how she could put it all into words, as a young pureblood witch she was always surrounded by magic at home. Now, she was at school-- "RAVENCLAW!"-- and it was in her face. From floating candles to this loud, talking hat. The muggle-borns must be going through a big culture shock. Yikes. 

That petrified looking boy that was assigned to Gryffindor was probably a muggle-born. You don't see that kind of panic on seasoned magic folk. You do see panic, just not the what-the-bloody-Hell-is-that?! sorts. Hopefully, he'll become less afraid. He was bound to, considering the house he was sorted into. There was a gentle push on her back from Rowan and Moira became aware of the whispers around the Great Hall. 

_"Fickle? As in Jacob Fickle?_ That _Fickle?"_

_"If she's anything like her brother, we're all screwed."_

Professor McGonagall was giving her a look of expectancy as Moira stood there, still listening to the whispers. 

_"I hope she isn't in our house, after what Jacob did to Hufflepuff's reputation."_

_"Let's face it no one wants to be in that house anyway. Match made in Heaven."_

Another push from Rowan and Moira started moving towards the chair. The hat almost seemed to be sizing her up already. Could he hear everyone too? She took a seat, she felt quite small as everyone stared at her. The hat was placed on her head and in one big breath-- who knew where that air went-- the Sorting Hat bellowed, "QUIET!" 

The whole room flinched and every mouth shut. The hat wouldn't be able to do anything, but they still did it anyway. What could the Sorting Hat possibly have over their heads? 

"The fact that I'm on yours." 

"Oh," Moira said with some obvious disappointment in her voice. Of course, none of them wanted her in their houses because they thought the Fickles were cursed. 

"Hmm, chin up! I can't think when I'm tilted like this," The Hat complained and Moira complied despite wanting to use the rim to keep her glaring hidden from the other students. "Interesting... I haven't seen one like this in a long time." 

Her bushy eyebrows drew together, she was growing worried. What on Earth was so interesting about her head that made the Sorting Hat take so long? Was she one of those difficult cases that might take longer than just a few minutes? Rowan told her that one of the students took longer than fifteen minutes to get sorted. Read it in a book somewhere, she said. 

She didn't care what house she'd be in. She had no theories like Rowan did either. Moira just wanted to redeem her family's name. Make her mother as proud as Jacob did before he disappeared. 

"HUFFLEPUFF!" 

"What?" Moira was so lost in thought that when the hat was lifted from her head she looked around wondering what just happened. Was she just put into the same house her brother was in? 

Great. More things to redeem. Suppose she'll try out for Quidditch next year and redeem them in that too? Because from what she knew, they certainly needed anything they could get. 

She took note, as she strode over to the table, that the other houses were cheering quite loudly. They were happy not to have a Fickle in their house, she rolled her eyes at a particularly enthusiastic Gryffindor, but when her eyes landed on her fellow Hufflepuffs she was surprised to see that most of them were also clapping. She felt a tingle of pride in her stomach as she took her seat. Guess they were known to be kind and diligent. She smiled and nodded at the group as a whole and looked away to see Professor McGonagall already lifting the list of names to her eyes and waiting for the cheering to calm down. She called, "Penny Haywood!" 

The hat had rested on her head for maybe three seconds before it shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!" The table was cheering again, but this time the other houses were only giving polite claps. A really strong contrast to how they had been a moment ago. Why were there even houses to begin with? This felt awful.

The blonde girl approached the table with a pretty grin on her face. She wasted no time shaking hands and introducing herself to their housemates. She fit in perfectly with everyone. 

It was like Haywood was meant to be in this house. Maybe Moira just had to grow into it. Yeah, she'll keep believing that until it comes true.

She allowed herself to space out as she watched the other first years get sorted. Until Rowan's name was called and Moira straightened her back. There was no doubt that Rowan was gonna be in Ravenclaw and Moira was ready to clap for her the hardest. The Sorting Hat seemed to take it's time on her as well wracking the mind of the young witch under its fraying rim. Moira knew, for a fact, that Rowan had a lot in her head. After much thought, the Hat yelled, "HUFFLEPUFF!" 

That made Moira stand up in front of her seat in surprise. Not Ravenclaw? Seriously? No one was more hungry for knowledge than Rowan Khanna, but Moira still clapped because she was glad to have her friend there with her. Rowan ran up and gave Moira an excited hug. It startled the young witch slightly. "That hat must be blind to put you anywhere but Ravenclaw," Moira muffled into Rowan's shoulder before she pulled away. 

"Jae Kim!"

"The hat doesn't have eyes," Rowan laughed. "But I think he could see what really mattered." 

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The two girls smiled at each other and looked back to the front of the Great Hall to watch the rest of the first years get sorted into their respective houses. It was a lot more fun to watch now that there was someone with her. Every student stood out from the rest. Merula Snyde seemed to show a lot of pride to be a Slytherin. That cute freckled boy she saw at the train station was sorted in Gryffindor and was nearly tackle-hugged by a group of older students when he got over. Some pink hair girl called Nymphadora Tonx nearly knocked over the stool when she got up to come over to the Hufflepuff table. Without really knowing these students Moira felt like she knew them by more than just their names. 

Eventually, every student was put away and so was the Sorting Hat. A tall wizard with a long, white beard took the stand. He wore half-moon glasses and silky purple robes. Moira recognized him from paintings and trading cards. This wizard with the twinkling eyes and the crooked nose was none other than Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts. The room fell silent as Dumbledore patiently smiled and looked at the crowd. The smile was very similar to that of Moira's grandmother's smile when she was waiting for her turn to talk. Rowan, being.... well, Rowan was shaking Moira's hand with stars in her eyes at the sight of THE Albus Dumbledore. If Moira's arm didn't feel like Jell-O perhaps she would find this cuter. Luckily, Rowan stopped when the older wizard started talking. 

"Welcome!-- Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" His voice rang through the Great Hall, there was probably a spell cast to make his voice louder. The room was so big that Moira doubted a normal voice would be heard without it. As he spoke the wizard's hands were held out in a way that felt like he was waiting for someone to hug him. "These past few years have seen a great weight lifted off our world! The Boy Who Lived-- Harry Potter-- Is safe! Years from now, young Harry will be old enough to attend Hogwarts... But for now, it is your turn!" His outstretched hands smacked together to make a thundering clap and more food than anyone could even imagine appeared before the students, everyone erupted in cheers as the First Feast of the year began!

"Look, Moira!" Rowan was pointing at her tie, which was now covered in black and yellow stripes. She looked down at her tie to see it had also changed and so had her hood. It solidified the fact that they were truly Hufflepuffs now. 

Moira knew already that several eyes were looking at her as she served herself a plate of food. It could have been because of her appetite, but she knew since the train people were gonna be trying to steal a glance at the youngest of the two Fickle siblings. Moira figured that if this was gonna be what most of her time at school was gonna be like, she might as well own it and she was gonna make sure they knew her for more than just her last name. 

"Wow," the girl called Penny Haywood gasped at how much Moira had served herself. Moira raised her eyebrows at the other girl. "You eat quite a bit, Moira." 

"You should've seen the number of sweets she ordered on the train." 

"Hey!" Moira defended herself, not wanting to be known as a glutton first thing in the year. "I offered you some!"

"Yes, you did," Rowan admitted. "And then you got more when the trolley came around the second time." 

"Then she must be really sweet," the pink-haired witch next to Penny remarked with a laugh.

It was nice joking around with other witches her age over a good meal. Things were turning out better than she thought it would, but eventually, the dinner had to end and the prefects had to round up their first years and guide them to the house common rooms. One of Hufflepuff's prefects was a short, plump girl called Jane Court. Her honey-blonde hair was worn in a short bob and her face almost always had that shrewd expression on it. It kind of seemed like Jane didn't want to be responsible for escorting the first years. 

At a certain point, Jane said something about the house symbol the badger, and Moira, had barely caught any of it. Rowan later told her badgers were often underestimated because it lives quietly until attacked, but when provoked, can fight off animals much larger than itself, including wolves. It was an interesting fact, however, Moira knew it really wouldn't do her much good in the long run. Jane rattled off some famous witches and wizards like Newt Schamander and Bridget Wenlock. Which also went in through one ear and out the other for the majority of the first years following Jane. Except for Rowan. Obviously. 

"This is the kitchen corridor," Jane said. The herd of 11-year-olds looked in the direction her rounded hand was pointing in. In the distance, you could see the light of the kitchen. Shadows of tiny heads with big ears traveled along the walls like bugs, those must be house-elves. The smell of the feast still lingered in the air and many of the students felt a warmth inside that thought of the warm meals to come in the future. They were led to a stack of barrels to the right. Jane let a small smile show her face, perhaps she thought the smiles of the youngest Hufflepuffs were endearing, but Moira thought Jane's smile was pretty and kind of calming. "Yes, I know it's quite lovely, attention here now!-- We're at the entrance to our common room." 

"Erm-- Where?" A confused student asked the question that was on everyone's mind as soon as they were told to look at the stack of barrels. Jane seemed proud to show this as she tapped the barrel second from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of "Helga Hufflepuff." The lid of the barrel swung open to reveal a tunnel, which grew larger to accommodate its travelers. Even the common room entrance was kind, however, it had a sour side as well. Hufflepuff is the only house at Hogwarts that also has a repelling device for would-be intruders. If the wrong lid is tapped, or if the rhythm of the tapping is wrong, the illegal entrant is doused in vinegar. In Moira's opinion, vinegar would hardly be enough to stop anyone from trying again. They should have a trapdoor leading to gross sludge or something. Perhaps that would hold people back from trying again. "Alright, now! One at a time and let's be mindful of each other's feet!-- Shudderfoot, I'm watching you. No funny business." 

Jane stood by the opening, patiently watching each of the first years file into the common room. She muttered each name as if she were doing a headcount of sorts. Did prefects have to memorize the names of their housemates? Goodness. Moira knew that had to be about seventy names. About ten students each year. Too many if you asked her.

Moira felt as though Jane added a bit of a stink to her last name when she said it under her breath. The young witch sighed a little as she followed Rowan through the tunnel. She already felt exhausted at the idea of whatever it was Jane Court had to say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the second chapter of my fanfiction! 
> 
> There are going to be various changes made to the story, for example: 
> 
> I picked a name for Leviosa Kid. I made a few of the characters already know each other since many of the students should already (ie. roommates, and classmates.) I also might add a few other things later. 
> 
> Thank you again! <3


	3. A Charming Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents."
> 
> \--Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by The Onceler

The Hufflepuff common room was warm and cozy, as one might expect from a house with such a kind reputation. The fireplace was lit and through the high windows, you could blades of grass just barely covering a night sky. The honey-colored wood seemed to match quite nicely with the yellow and black decorations; the sofa cushions were upholstered in a flattering black and yellow fabric, and the rug under the coffee table seemed to match too. There were small tables against the walls where returning students seemed to be catching up after the long summer, and plants were on nearly every shelf and hook. 

Moira had a feeling that perhaps making herself at home wouldn't be hard in this environment. Making a name for just herself would perhaps be a bit more difficult, however, considering the looks from older students that had congregated against the wall. Had older people always been this weirdly intimidating? Or was she the intimidating one? The way they seemed to be looking at her didn't give her any clues. 

"I'm surprised they let you into the school," a tall, gaunt-looking boy with blonde hair in... a style was looking right at her as he said that. Moira squinted at him because, well, he was standing by a bright fire, but also-- why was he even talking to her? "Especially after what your insane brother did to Hufflepuff's reputation."

The nerve of this boy. She could take the disgusting language towards herself, but he had some balls on him saying that about her brother directly to her. Her eyes grew narrower as she fully turned to the boy with a catty bounce and a dry smile. He glared back, daring her to snap back at him, and she nearly did, but right as she opened her mouth to retort, Rowan spoke. 

"The gall of you! I know, for a fact, that Moira Fickle will be a fantastic and great witch," Rowan defended her friend, perhaps this is what Hufflepuff was truly about. Rowan sized him up through her horn-rimmed glasses, which she was adjusting as if she was seeing his soul right through his crossed arms. "Which is more than what I can say about you since you seem to think it's okay for you--" She jabbed a finger in his direction and the lad seemed to flinch. "--our senior-- Someone who should be leading by example, might I add!-- to be picking on a first-year student on her first day!" 

Merlin's beard! Moira was at a loss of words as the older boy rolled his eyes and simply muttered, "Whatever." Before striding off to a bunch of laughing students who were poking fun at him for getting scolded by an 11-year-old girl. Rowan immediately let out a huff of air and returned to Moira's side. 

"I'm sorry about that."

"What?" Moira asked, one side of her head suddenly heavy with confusion as it tilted for Moira to give Rowan a frown. 

"Back in a Diagon Alley you said for me to follow your lead, and I-- well-- didn't?" Rowan twiddled her thumbs and gave Moira a nervous smile. "I'm sorry?" 

"Wha! What?" Moira sputtered before she let out a trill of laughter. Now it was Rowan's turn to be confused as Moira hugged Rowan with one arm. "Thank you, Rowan." 

"Oh!" Relief washed over Rowan as she hugged her back, of course. Rowan seemed to be a hugger so far. "Well then! You're welcome!" 

"Girls!" Penny Haywood called out from the opening of the girl's dormitory, accompanied by that sweet smile of hers. "The rest of us are gonna play some games before bed! You should join us!" 

"That sounds great, Penny!" 

"We'll be right there!" Moira responded and linked arms with Rowan to head towards Penny. 

"Before that, Fickle," they turned to see their prefect, Jane standing patiently behind them. Her shrewd face from before seemed more calmed as if she had prepared for this before she had come into the common room. "I'd like a word with you, please." 

Moira's smile fell slightly before she unlinked her arm from Rowan's and faced Jane with a concerned gaze. Was she already in trouble? Rowan placed a hand on Moira's shoulder before the brunette nodded and said, "Go on ahead. I'm sure it'll only be a moment." 

Rowan left with Penny, upstairs to set up for games with the other first-year girls. Moira really should've told them about the extra candy in her bag. Snacks are important when it comes to making friends, according to her father. Perhaps it wasn't the right time for her to think about that, since Jane seemed rather serious. Jane led her junior to an empty table against the wall. It was still unclear what Moira had done to warrant this conversation. It was strangely nerve-wracking. 

"You have an awfully good friend there," Jane stated, with a smile. Was she trying to make small talk? Why? "You should always take good care of those." 

"Yeah," Moira murmured and shifted uncomfortably. They both seemed uncomfortable. Moira wasn't fond of the older students of her school so her guard was already up and Jane seemed like whatever she had to say was hard to even start. 

"So how has Hogwarts been so far?" 

"Let's just say it's been many things." 

"Yes, it certainly can be," an awkward laugh. Moira could already tell this was about her brother or something related to him. At least, Jane seemed to have some sense of beating around the bush, but this was starting to get unbearable. 

"I assume none of those have anything to do with the word you wanted to have with me, Miss Court?" 

"Oh, please, Jane is fine," Jane lifted her eyes from her folded hands to Moira, they blinked twice before Jane nodded. Her hands relaxed. Finally, they were gonna go somewhere with this conversation. "So, as you know your brother was a bit of a trouble maker."

Oh! For the love of Hungarian Horntails everywhere, never mind! Go back to the awkward small talk from before. Moira didn't want to hear this right now. 

"Trouble-maker, one-hundred percent! Insane? Well-- he certainly was ballsy, but he was sane from what I remember," Jane spoke rather quickly now and as a result of her words her image in Moira's eyes changed quickly too. Moira and her family didn't think he went mad either. They just thought that perhaps he was wrong and was too ashamed to come home. They wanted to believe that and so they did. "Erm, but--But! The point is that he was a troublemaker and he cost Hufflepuff many house points as well as its reputation." 

He's missing and she's worried about the house points? What? Moira's fingers tapped on the wood of the table impatiently. She was already done with this conversation. Moira wanted desperately to be done with this conversation, but of course, her prefect had more to say about these house points. 

"I would like your help with restoring Hufflepuff's reputation, Fickle." 

Great, another reputation to reconstruct after her brother's destructive wake. Moira already had to restore her family's honor why not go ahead and pile more on to that! Why not set the school on fire and ask her to put it out? What's that? Hogwarts is frozen in a block of ice and everyone needs her help? Sure! It's not like Moira has her own worries! "My name is Moira, Miss Court," Moira spoke sharply with a tight smile. "I'd like to be known for more than just my brother and my last name if you don't mind." 

"Of course," Jane said, in awe that the first year before her was so... rude? Moira immediately regretted how cold she had sounded. From Jane's shock, she could tell that she had probably messed up. She felt awful. 

Well, not awful. Maybe just a little bad.

"Sorry." Moira truthfully would help the school if it were frozen in ice, or on fire. It was something anyone ought to do, but everyone just kept comparing her to Jacob and warning her against being like him.

"It's okay." Jane shook her head. That meant it wasn't okay. "I get that it's probably hard with your brother missing and the rumors are probably not helping at all." Moira was silent when Jane's round, cushiony fingers pressed against the top of Moira's hand in an attempt to be comforting. Instead, they were just cold compared to Moira's, but when the kid looked at her senior she knew that Jane had a lot of warmth in her. "I'm here to talk if you need it." 

"Thanks," Moira mumbled as she slid her hand away and stood up from her seat. It wasn't a great conversation and Moira didn't know what to think about this prefect of theirs. "And don't you worry about those precious house points, I'll make sure we win that house cup." That was a hefty promise for someone who attracts troublesome people. She might say something and get points taken. On top of that, studying wasn't a favorite thing of hers either so getting points was starting to look like more of a stretch. Rowan would probably make sure she's well-read on every subject, but even so, this was starting to become quite a task. 

She marched down the hall to the first year's shared room. The light was on and giggles could be heard from inside. Moira already felt the tension in her bones wash away as she opened the door. Her heart tingled a bit when she saw that her new roommates had saved her a seat in their game circle. 

❈ ❈ ❈

The next morning, Moira was woken up by Rowan shaking her awake with an eager grin. "Wake up, Moira!" 

"Ugh," Moira groaned into her pillow, which had taken a place on top of her head to cover her ears so she could get a few extra moments of shut-eye. 

Of course, nothing could give her more time especially since she now had to go to an actual school. Most wizard children are taught basic maths, reading, and writing at home by their parents, but Moira read somewhere that muggles start going to school at around five years old. "You'll be late to your first class of the whole year if you don't get up and start getting ready," Rowan warned and took Moira's pillow from her, giving her friend a good pap! For good measure.

"Good," Moira said flatly. She grappled for her blanket so she could bunch it together under her head. "That'll keep Flitwick's expectations low and reachable for the unforeseen future." The blanket left her fingers too as it was whipped off by her friend, which caused an exchange of disappointed looks, one tired and the other expectant. 

"How do you expect to be a great witch without learning any charms?" 

"With lots of rest and a nice jog in the morning?" 

Rowan shook her head, rubbing the bridge of her nose to hide her smile as Moira swung her legs over the side of her bed and sat up. Arms were stretched over her head as she stood up to shake the numbness from her legs. "I'll get ready real quick," she sighed as she grabbed her uniform and robes from atop her trunk and flattened her hair against her head. Someone, she was looking at Rowan, had made sure her uniform wouldn't wrinkle overnight and all she could think was how good of a friend Rowan was already. Jenora would be quite proud of this one. 

"Professor Flitwick, from what I've been told, is quite a talented wizard." 

"Well, I'd hope so if he's teaching us," Moira mused at the thought of an incompetent teacher. 

"You're right," Rowan beamed at Moira who was checking in the mirror to make sure her shirt was tucked in all around her skirt. It was fine if it was a little messy in the back the robes would hide that. "Surely, such a great school would only hire the best professors." 

Moira wasn't gonna say anything, but according to Jacob's letters home, while he was still going to Hogwarts, that wasn't always the case. "Er, yeah," she breathed out and her robes on over her uniform. "I heard they go through a lot of Defense Against the Dark Arts professors though." 

"Yeah? I haven't hea-- Are you not gonna brush your hair?" Rowan looked at Moira in surprise as the girl had pressed a clip into her hair and scooped up her book bag without finishing a full morning routine. 

"No, I've got short hair, Rowan," Moira answered simply as she walked past the young witch and towards the exit of their room. "I do have to worry about it laying flat though." 

"Ah, right." 

"C'mon now, you said we'd be late for class!" 

"Well, we'll be early now." Moira glanced over at Rowan with a pout, Rowan frowned at her. "Why do you look like that? Being early isn't a bad thing and I thought you'd take longer to get ready." 

"I could've gotten more sleep?"

"Just get out the door, Moira." Rowan jabbed a finger forward as she grabbed her own bag and followed the reluctant Moira out the door into the hall of the Hufflepuff girls' dormitory where there seemed to be very little commotion aside from a small group of girls that were gossiping by the common room entryway. Penny Haywood was amongst them, her smile targeted Moira with exact precision, and nearly every other girl talking to her turned to look at the unnerved witch. 

Moira fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve as she smiled and nodded. Should she wave? She was already waving, oh no. The older students chuckled slightly, but Penny waved back before shaking her head at the upperclassmen, saying something with a sweet smile and leaving the conversation.

Penny was coming over after talking to a bunch of older students and Moira wanted to know something. "Did they say anything about me?" Moira asked, trying not to sound too concerned. She wasn't.

"Oh, loads of things!" 

Okay, that was a lie. Moira actually cared about what the older students had to say. Especially now that Moira had roommates who could pull pranks or gossip about her. She wasn't surrounded by the unconditional love and support of her mom and dad anymore. Her peers didn't know anything about her. Those older kids probably knew her brother. Was he really a troublemaker? Did that conversation with Jane actually happen? "What all did they say about me?" Moira fished for information and Penny would tell. 

"Well, they did say you're a lot shorter than Jacob," Penny informed through a giggle as Moira simply scowled in front of her as they cut across the common room. 

"Well, of course, I am! I'm an eleven-year-old!" 

"No kidding! Me too!" Penny joked.

"And yet you're still shorter than most of our year." 

"RowaAan," Moira whined at the spectacled friend of hers as the exited the barrel. "You're supposed to be on my side." 

"Okay, well-- I'm on your side and taller than you," Rowan laughed. 

Moira didn't have a chance to ask Penny more about what the older students had to say, or about why she became close to them so quickly because she had to go to potions class which was in the opposite direction of where Rowan and Moira needed to go. Moira assumed the upperclassmen took a shine to Penny because she's friendly, but also because she was a very pretty girl.

Penny Haywood had a small face with big blue eyes, thick eyelashes, and a perfect nose. Her smile had straight teeth. Her hair was long and in two neat-- no! Perfect braids going down her back. They swung back and forth with every step Penny took as she walked away as if to tell Moira to catch up and maybe people will like her just as much.

Maybe she should grow her hair out so she could braid it like that. She had curly hair, would she even be able to manage her hair if it were long? 

"Moira?"

Moira quickly pulled herself out of her thoughts as she moved to follow Rowan up the stairs and to the Eastern towers of the castle. "How would I look with long hair?" 

"Hmm, probably good?" 

"Why'd you say it like a question?

"It just came out of nowhere." 

"Ah, yeah, sorry! I was looking at Penny's hair and was just thinking about it," Moira said, with a laugh. 

"Don't grow your hair out just to be like Penny," Rowan preached as they walked down the corridor. Moira allowed her friend to take the lead since Rowan had memorized the map of Hogwarts already. "You should grow your hair for yourself." 

Of course, Rowan did have the stage for long when Moira's attention was torn away from Rowan as the Charms classroom grew closer in the distance. Moira had taken no notice of Rowan's dumbfounded expression at how easily the witch had been distracted. She must've been under some sort of memory shortening spell to just zero in on something else so fast. Rowan had already committed to this friendship, however, and simply followed where Moira's eyes had focused.

On the classroom ahead. More on the two students in front of the classroom door. One looked tense as he looked down at the ground with his eyebrows curled up. That Gryffindor boy from the Sorting ceremony the night before. He had dirty blonde hair that was combed to the side. As rude as it was, Moira thought he looked rather pathetic with his big brown eyes darting side to side. Her legs moved her quicker than Rowan's so she could get closer. 

The Slytherin girl's voice was now able to reach the young witch's ears. "I can't believe they continue to allow mudbloods into Hogwarts," her voice rang with a shrill laugh, her words made Moira's blood boil. The third-year from the night before, this girl sounded just like her. "You might as well drop out before you're in over your head. You're gon--!" 

"AhEM!" 

The shaggy-haired tween whirled around to look at Moira, who had interrupted. She had a small face, high cheekbones, and a sharp nose. Violet eyes glared at Moira's golden ones, and Moira glared right back. "What?" The girl hissed. 

Rowan arrived at Moira's side with a concerned look. Moira nodded to the door and said, bluntly, "You're blocking the door." 

"Who are you?" The girl demanded with a disgusted look. Moira's head twitched slightly to register the disrespect in the pointy-nosed witch's tone and the sound of huffing could be heard from Rowan behind her. Who was she? Why was she already such a brat?

"Well, I'm called Moira--" She held a hand to her chest before she motioned towards the door once again. "--Buuut if you don't get out of the way, we'll all be called late." 

"Including you," Rowan pointed out with raised eyebrows. 

The girl looked between Rowan and Moira. "Tch, whatever," she scoffed and stormed off, knocking shoulders with Moira as she passed. 

"That was severely anticlimactic," Rowan mumbled and shook her head as she watched the girl get farther away. Moira gave her a confused look. "Not that I was wanting it to escalate or anything."

"Of course not," she mused at her friend's defense. It'd be too much excitement for the first day of classes. She remembered her initial reason for coming over so quickly to interrupt the snobby witch from before and turned to the Gryffindor boy. He flinched into a stiff stance when Moira's slanted eyes landed on him. His big brown eyes were looking right back at her, she thought they looked like a cow's eyes; they were heavy-lidded with thick eyelashes, yet they were also very wide. His cheeks were flushed with what was assumed to be embarrassment. "She was rude, yeah?"

"Erm, yes," he gulped. He finally blinked, finally, and gave the two girls a thankful, timid smile that spoke volumes about how he was feeling. His eyes smiled at Moira as if she had saved him from something terrifying. Confrontation. 

"Let's go in before we're late," Moira encouraged. Rowan eagerly grinned and took the lead on entering the Charms classroom. "Erm, what's your name?"

"I--I'm Ben... Copper."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing that scene, I was so focused on the fact that Moira was meeting Merula for the first time that I completely forgot Ben was also being introduced in this scene too! I wanted to thank anyone who has been reading this so far. It means a lot to me that anyone would even be laying eyes on my fic and I'll continue to tell you this as we progress through the years of the story! 
> 
> If you would like to check out my Tumblr it's @lindsaysblue. I am currently giving it a new format so I can start posting about my art and stories there, but my ask box is open! <3


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